Pie War
by Full Moon Ballad
Summary: Six bird kids. Four pies. One poor sap who has to clean up the mess. //I accidently left out Total and Akila. My bad.//
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was the consequence of extreme boredom. And it was actually my own idea, so that makes it even better. My last two stories were more serious, so I'm purposely making this one light-hearted. This is set a little after **_**The Final Warning **_**and is in Max's point of view. Enjoy! **

Ok, everyone knows I like to take things seriously. Not much time to mess around when you're running from Erasers, y'know? So, I like to wind down with the Flock every now and then, just chill and hang out. (Not that we don't already spend every waking moment together, but, hey, that's an unnecessary detail.) Anyway, I know how to have fun once in a while.

But this was going too far.

We had been flying east from New York for most of the day, and ended up somewhere in Maine. The Flock was pretty tired and so was I, so we decided to rest the wings a bit at a small motel.

We still had some money leftover from Mom and Jeb, so dinner wouldn't be much of a problem. Except for the whole wing business, that is. Sure the American (and most of the world's) government knew about us, but we were still leery about the "going into public" thing. But, I guess that's what jackets are for, right?

Anyway, we were headed to a little take-out diner down the street. My stomach was already gurgling, and I thought I heard Iggy's, too. The smell of overly-expensive cheeseburgers and chicken and fish wafted (wafted, oh man, I must be _starving) _from the diner. I looked through the joint's windows. It seemed to be a slow night, maybe about three families eating at the tables and one cashier at the front counter. Good. That's how I like my day; slow and unnoticeable.

The Flock and I walked through the door, and the Gasman sped over to the counter before I could even tell him to keep a low profile. I looked at Fang who just gave me his usual blank stare, shrugged his shoulders, and loped after Gazzy. So much for his input.

Rolling my eyes, I took Angel's hand and walked over to stand by Fang and Gazzy. Iggy and Nudge followed me, and we stayed in an orderly line to get our giant orders of food. I ordered three double cheeseburgers, a strawberry shake, and two orders of French fries for Angel, Nudge, and I. (To split, you ask? Ha! Let's see _you_ try to be satisfied with one burger and a freaky metabolism! No way, Jose.)

We were almost done ordering when the cashier asked if we would like anything for dessert.

And that's where things began to get bad.

No sooner had the question come out of the poor guy's mouth than Gazzy, Nudge, Angel, and Iggy started yelling what they wanted.

"Apple turnover!"

"Peach cobbler!"

"Chocolate sundae, no nuts!"

"Cherry pie!"

I gave the cashier a look that I hoped was reassuring and tried to calm everyone down (with Fang's help of coarse.) After buying our actual meal, we still had about 200 bucks left. I figured we could blow about 20 extra dollars here. So, we ordered four big pies; two banana cream, one cherry, and one apple.

Big mistake on my part.

We walked back to our motel room to eat our dessert. There was no way we were staying in public when the Gasman ate a pie. Can you say "disturbing?" Anyway, we were back in our room when all heck exploded. Gazzy and Angel yanked a banana cream each, and Iggy tore after them with his own cherry. Leaving me, Nudge, and Fang with the apple. Ugh, I never cared for apple much, but a life of hardship had helped me muscle my way past the gag reflex.

Everything was going fine. We were all noshing our pies with reverence. (Well, except me, but I wasn't about to complain.) Then Angel let out a little indignant shriek. I whipped around to see that some pie had been dropped on her lap. Angel's cheeks turned a dangerous shade of pink (Did I ever mention how Angel can look totally evil sometimes? No? Well here's the memo.), and she took a handful of her own pie and tossed it at Gazzy.

The Gasman ducked and the pie ended up hitting Fang in the back of his head. Good, if anyone could stop this before it even began, it was Fang. But before that thought could leave my mind, Fang gave an evil little smirk, scooped up some apple pie, and promptly tossed it at me. Quick reflexes saved me, but Iggy's well-aimed shot hit me on the shoulder.

And so the pie war began.

Angel and Gazzy were pretty much focusing on whaling each other, while Iggy and Nudge teamed up on me and Fang. I narrowed my gaze, picked up the remains of the apple pie, and hurdled it at Iggy's head. He dodged it and the pie ended up splattering against the wall.

Completely out of ammo, I hid behind Fang as another piece of cherry flew my way. Fang and I ducked at the same time, letting that hit the wall, too. I pitied the cleaning people.

The remains of the cherry pie lay in the middle of the room, and I ran towards it with a sudden surge of speed. I scooped it up and chucked it at Nudge, managing to hit her wing. A handful of banana cream smacked me in the face, and I turned to see matching innocent smiles on Angel's and the Gasman's faces. Yeah, and Antarctica had purple snow.

The fight turned one-on-one, and we ended up having to scrape pie splatters off the walls. I threw a very small amount of apple at Gazzy, which caught him on the leg. Not even two seconds later, I felt a huge, moist _plop!_ on the back of my head. Oh, Fang was _so_ dead!

The fight went on for hours, and I was amazed that no one had come to check up on us because of the noise. Eventually, we all just flopped down and fell asleep. I didn't particularly like going to sleep as a sticky mess, but oh well.

After all, I know how to have fun, too…

But there was no way in _heck_ this was going to happen again!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! **

**Thank you for taking the time to read this. Review if you want to. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wolfy encouraged me to continue this. This round: Ice Cream! Hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Again, I don't own ****Maximum Ride****.**

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I woke the next morning feeling sticky and generally icky. My crusty eyes slowly opened, and I braced myself for the sight that was sure to come. Multiple smears of pie fillings colored the walls, and various streaks of fruit splashed in random areas. Great. That meant, if we didn't want to be paying extra for a cleaning crew, we would need to be out of here as soon as possible. Which meant _no shower_. Ugh.

I stumbled over to Fang in my early morning haze, and gently kicked him ( I swear) in the side.

"Fang, c'mon, we gotta go. Now." He mumbled something unintelligible, and proceeded to ignore me. Frustrated with this, I decided to give him a not-so-gentle-but-not-enough-to-break-his-back kick. That's stage three of the Fang Wake Up Call. He finally opened his eyes to glare at me. Jeesh, if looks could kill. I returned the look and yanked him from off the floor. (I still don't know why he was even down there. C'mon, man, passing off a bed? For the _floor_? Ridiculous.)

For the next ten minutes, we had to work together to wake the rest of the Flock up. Gosh, we'd gotten lazy lately. Too much pampering. Mental note: wake Flock up at 5:00 for morning practice from now on.

Finally, after much grumbling and staggering, we managed to get out of the motel by 8:00. The cleaning people were supposed to come in at about 8:30, so thank goodness for my internal alarm clock.

We took off from down the street. It was still pretty early for the city folk, so I highly doubt anyone even saw us. Besides, what with the government's recent involvement, it was only a matter of time before everyone in existence knew about us. Goody. Just what I needed; more attention.

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We had been flying for roughly four hours at a leisure pace, when we couldn't ignore our stomachs anymore. None of us had had anything to eat since the pie incident, and our bellies were telling us that that was way too long of a wait.

Add to the fact that the rest of the Flock had been nagging about it for the past three and a half hours, and I was ready to make a dive bomb towards the nearest Micky D's.

We must have reached the northern most part of Maine by now, judging by the hordes of fisheries I could see below us. I spotted a sorta-small patch of forest a few miles away, and led the Flock down there. We touched down in a small clearing, barely big enough for our wing spans, and I put the plan together for us to stay here for the next night. Like I said, we'd been too pampered lately. A night in the woods would do this lot some good.

"Ugh, Max, can we please get something to eat now? _Please_?" Nudge begged. I heard affirmative noises coming from everyone else, so I figured I'd better agree with them. My stomach was growling at me anyways, so I might as well have.

The nearest town looked to be about half a mile away, so we'd have to walk unless we wanted to be up next on the bird watcher's list. "_Oh, look it's the rare bird/human thing. Known to the locals as 'that bird kid.'"_ Hey, you never know.

It took us a good ten minutes to get to town, now we had to find an actual restaurant. Most of the place looked to be one big market, but we managed to find a tiny diner in the center of town. Well, if one could even call it that. But, hey, it had a counter, and I could smell food, so it counts.

Because of our last incident with the pies, I wasn't going to chance staying long enough for the Flock to cause a scene. Get in, get food, get out; that was the plan.

Lately my plans hadn't gone accordingly.

We got in. We got food. But we didn't exactly get out the way I had hoped we would. Ohhh, no; that'd just be too easy! I even went out of my way to get regular-sized food portions so no one would take a second look at me, even if I was still covered in pie goop.

The rest of the Flock, however, was another thing.

Apparently Angel, Iggy, Nudge, and the Gasman didn't think last night's pies were enough. We had walked into the shop, and I had gone first, then Fang. When the line got to Iggy, all heck broke loose. _Again. _Well, not entirely. At least this time they stayed in a line and ordered like civilized people. Not shouting like last time. See? I'm slowly (_slowly, slowly_) training them to act courteously.

Those four didn't even bother ordering food food; they skipped right to the dessert. All this place had was an assortment of ice cream flavors, but I guess that was enough for them. Iggy ordered a giant bowl of a strawberry-vanilla mixture, Nudge got a big carton of Half Baked, and Angel and Gazzy each ordered a chocolate fudge sundae. Big ones. Like, _mountainously_ big.

Like I said, I wasn't taking any chances with the Flock's seemingly good behavior, so I quickly paid the cashier with our dwindling money supply, grabbed everyone, and left as inconspicuously as our pie-covered selves allowed.

We walked all the way back to the little clearing and plopped down on the grass. Fang and I set to work on inhaling our fish while everyone else tore at their ice cream. Fang finished before me and went over to sit between Nudge and Iggy. Fine, be that way, emo boy. There was no way I was sitting near any of them when they had ammo and devious minds. Uh uh, no way.

And even as I heard the first war cry, I still didn't look up.

Well, okay, maybe I kinda had to look up. Just to make sure no one was getting hurt. I was promptly plopped onto by a huge handful of chocolate ice cream. Which meant my victims were Gazzy and Angel. I slowly turned to see Nudge and Fang fighting over her Half Baked, and they ended up looking at me, then each other, then me again. Crap.

Right as they launched their frozen dairy bombs of doom, I rolled away into the bushes. Behind the cover of the tree line, I darted between branches and bushes, evading every shot thrown at me. They'd give up after a while, and then I'd come in for the kill. Sure enough, after about five minutes of my dodging, Fang and Nudge turned back to open fire at Angel, Iggy, and the Gasman. Good. Time for my plan of action.

I quietly crept over to Fang, making sure no one could hear me over their own noises. Fang's back was to me, which made it much easier to shove him and steal his ammunition. The carton of Half Baked was about half full, so I scooped up a ginormous amount and slapped it right on his head. Before Fang could get a chance to get me back, I hopped out of the way and ran towards Gazzy and Angel. The ones who started this thing.

Iggy got to me before I could finish my mini-mission though. I got splattered in the head with whatever he was carrying. As I felt the ice cream slowly drip down my hair line, I turned with a death glare in my eyes (lost on Iggy, I know, but still mildly satisfying) and aimed the rest of my carton at him. Which he ducked with speed that left me very miffed. And a little vulnerable. Now I was empty-handed against a vengeful Iggy, who still had ammunition. Then I remembered that Angel and Gazzy still had ammo, and I rushed over to their side. They were currently taking aim at Nudge and Fang, who was semi-hiding behind Nudge. I skidded to a stop right before Gazzy could launch his ice cream at Nudge.

"Stop!"

Everyone turned to stare at me with mild shock in their eyes. "Alright, alright, the pie thing was entertaining, and this was fun too, okay? But this can't become a regular thing, guys! We've still got a mission and, like it or not, we still need to focus on that. I'm sorry for being a kill-joy and all, but come on, enough is enough!" I was out of breath by the time I was done. I hadn't meant to be harsh or anything but at least it seemed that I gotten through to them. The looks of guilt and disappointment on the Flock's faces (excluding Fang, duh) numbed me, though. I knew we hadn't had any sort of fun lately. These guys deserved a little goof-off time.

And on that note, I sighed and said, "Starting tomorrow."

Which wasn't the smartest thing to say in my position. I was still open for attack, and I'd just messed with everyone's feelings, so, needless to say, I was pelted plenty of times.

The fight went on late into the night, and I had to dodge and evade for most of the time, unless I was able to steal someone else's ice cream carton. That never lasted long before the owner reclaimed it, though. The only advantage I had now that I didn't yesterday was that ice cream melted, and the fight couldn't last terribly long.

Finally it seemed we were all out of ammo, and we flopped down to the ground, some of us panting, some of us snoring.

All of us happy.


End file.
